The Vulcan Soul
by Glenonaya
Summary: IDuring the /Ikal-if-feeI a /Izavik-telI, a proto-bond, formed between Spock and his captain. Or at least that was what the Vulcan had assumed it was. But Spock learns that sometimes dedication, no matter how laudable the ideal to which it is given, can lead to obsession and blindness to the most obvious truth. And in the end even logic must bend knee to facts./I/P
1. Chapter 1

_While this fic is tied into several episodes it is not necessary to have seen them to read it, all the information that you need is provided in the story._

_I have ordered the episodes according to their stardates so that the sequence of events now run: Amok Time, This Side of Paradise, The Deadly Years, The Changeling, Obsession, Immunity Syndrome. Though I have moved Immunity Syndrome back a bit so it occurs closer to Obsession. This story takes its beginning immediately after the ending of The Deadly Years._

_As ever thank you to Lucycantdance for a wonderful job of knocking this into shape. I owe a lot to Weirdlittlestories as well, both for her Mistakes to Avoid When Writing TOS which allowed me to edit some errors out of this (I'm detail obsessed, what of it?) and to her ficlet A Logical Form of Relationship which kick-started my headcanons of Vulcan sexuality and bondings._

_This is my contribution to the Kirk/Spock Big Bang Quite unaware I chose Spirk Day as my publishing day, so happy Spirk Day everyone._

Spock practically bolted into the corridor from sickbay, wishing only to escape. The adrenal serum had worked as intended, but the deageing process had been... painful. It was an attestation to the strength of the bed restraints that only two of them had broken. Doctor McCoy had then insisted on keeping him for a full physical, even after Spock pointed out that neither the captain nor the doctor himself had gone through one. McCoy had retaliated with the complexities added by Spock's hybrid biology, an argument that Spock had found no counter for.

The examination had found no discrepancies that could not be attributed to the deageing process, but despite the cleared physical, he felt a hot shimmer sizzling beneath his skin.

He stalked down the corridor, hurriedly making his way towards the residence level seeking Jim's cabin.

Logically he knew that the human was fully recovered, he had seen it with his own eyes, and that it would be better if he returned to his own quarters to meditate and restore his mental balance and psychic shields. The rapid ageing and deageing had severely compromised him on several levels. To be forced to watch while-

_Jim's body bent from age, his face deeply lined, hair white and thin. And his mind, felt through the _zavik-tel_ that had formed under the _kal-if-fee_, muddled and confuse – no longer possessing its former agility and vibrancy._

The strength of the so-recently-formed memory nearly knocked the air from his lungs. Spock had long since accepted that either he, Jim, or both of them could die a sudden death, such was the nature of their work and neither of them would be content doing and being less. _Kaiidth_, he would cherish Jim's presence while he could, for whatever else happened he knew that Jim would age and die while he himself was only middle-aged... if they both lived that long.

This too he had achieved a form of peace with, the peace that comes from knowing that an event is a distant thing, that he would not have to confront it for many years to come. But the radiation damage they had suffered on Gamma Hydra IV had forced him to witness it prematurely.

"Commander?"

Spock blinked once, coming back to himself, finding Lieutenant Uhura studying him worriedly.

"Are you alright? You look a bit pale."

No he was not 'alright', but he doubted that the disturbance he felt was what she was referring to.

"I am functional." Knowing that this was unlikely to satisfy a human, particularly one as inquisitive as the lieutenant he added, "Merely... tired from today's events." That was not a lie, it was simply not the whole truth.

Uhura smiled, apparently satisfied. "That's understandable. Well, sweet dreams then." She turned and walked away.

Yes, he should return to his quarters and rest; to find himself standing in the middle of a corridor lost in thought and unaware of his surroundings suggested a dangerous lack of control on his part. But the thought of his solitary cabin, of not seeing Jim even for a moment, filled him with such conflict that he was unsure how to proceed. On one hand it did more than suggest that he should indeed meditate to regain his lost control, on the other Spock doubted that he could descend deep enough into trance to achieve that in his current state.

Sighing deeply he decided to default on his original plan, he would visit Jim briefly to sate his illogical need for nearness then retire to his quarters to meditate.

A short walk brought him to Kirk's door, which was opened a second after he had sounded the buzzer. Spock stepped into the dimly lit room, pleased to find Jim alone – Dr. Wallace was nowhere in sight – and seated behind his desk.

The blond smiled warmly.

"Spock, I see McCoy got you back to rights. What can I do for you?"

_What indeed?_ How could he explain his presence? He cast about for a believable reason for his intrusion, but his mind felt murky. _Perhaps the deageing was not yet complete? What else could explain this incessant illogical behaviour?_

Jim frowned and, rising slowly, walked around the table towards the Vulcan.

"Spock?"

The First Officer had not been aware how compromised his psychic shields had been until the human approached. Standing less than a meter away, the strong, golden _katra_ that inhabited that body became a siren's call, impossible for the Vulcan to resist.

In two steps he was chest-to-chest with the human, wrapping one arm around his torso, pinning him.

Jim immediately stiffened, as if bracing himself for an attack, and something deep in the Vulcan's own soul cried out in despair. Not long ago this golden being would never have reacted in such a manner, would never have conceived of the possibility that his First Officer could ever be a threat to him, could mean him harm. Vulcan had shattered that illusion, as it had shattered the innocence of one Vulcan's heart – before the _kal-if-fee_ he had not believed this possible either – but both that and his encounter with the spores scant weeks ago had proven once and for all that he was indeed capable of great violence.

But the reflex lasted only a second. Jim relaxed and raised one hand to rest it on his friend's shoulder, squeezing slightly.

"It's okay Spock. I'm here. We both are."

The need to drop his shields fully, to touch this radiant mind with his, nearly overwhelmed the Vulcan; but such an intrusion would be beyond unethical. Instead he let one hand travel down over the human's face and body, first the front, then the back, continuing the gentle caress over and over. He delighted in the feel of the body beneath, the sensation of its firm muscles, yet so oddly soft by Vulcan standards.

Jim remained still, allowing Spock to freely examine him, relaxing slightly into the soft caress. Through his weakened shielding and the only halfway blocked _zavik-tel _Spock could feel the other man's mind relaxing along with his body, pleasure filling him, only slightly tainted with confusion. As his caress continued, Spock could sense how the essence of the pleasure changed, from placid warmth to something sharper and hotter, and the human's body responded to the touching, pulse and respiration speeding up, skin heating, genitals filling with blood. The _zavik-tel_ was not enough for Spock to respond physically, but it was more than enough to fill him with the teasing promise of what might be. He bent his head, burying his face at Jim's neck, breathing deeply of that warm, male scent.

The other man started squirming in his arms, pushing at his shoulders, embarrassment growing as large as pleasure in his mind.

"Spock I'm sorry, I didn't mean to- Listen we can just-"

_Sorry? Why would Jim apologise? Did he think that Spock did not share- Ah yes, there was the answer._ An overriding need to keep Jim in his arms, to not lose the golden, teasing warmth that brushed so delightfully against his mind filled him.

He made a quick decision. It did not feel as if Jim were willing to listen to lengthy explanations, so, taking a leaf out of the captain's book, Spock acted.

Raising his free hand to cup the back of the blond's head, Spock brushed his lips softly against the other man's mouth, instantly making Jim freeze. The Vulcan could feel how all other emotions were overridden by surprise. To make sure the human was aware of his intention Spock parted his lips and let his tongue lick across the seam of Jim's lips.

For an instant the human teetered on an edge, then resolve overrode all and he jerked his head away.

"Stop!" Jim pushed hard at Spock's shoulders and the Vulcan abruptly let go and stepped back, as much from the sudden sense of anger flaring through the other man, as from the words. "What the hell do you think you're doing Mr. Spock?"

Spock stared at his captain in mortification. _How could he have lost control like this?_

"Captain, I cannot explain my loss of control. I can only apologise for my transgression. I shall retire to my quarters and meditate immediately and hope that will suffice. I will accept any reprimand you feel appropriate."

He turned on his heel, hoping to escape – his shame almost a living thing – but in a flash Kirk had overtaken him, blocking his way to the door.

Jim folded his arms and planted his feet solidly on the deck, seemingly determined not to let the Vulcan run out on him. "Oh no you don't. You don't get to kiss me and then run off. Explain yourself."

Spock closed his eyes, trying very hard to regain some of his equilibrium. Tried and failed.

"I have no explanation," he answered hoarsely. "Please, let me go."

"No, Spock. I won't." Gently, Kirk grabbed his friend by the arms and guided him to a chair, the same chair he himself had occupied scant hours earlier, just after his hearing. Spock felt something dark and oddly like fear fill Jim. "Spock? Was this some form of revenge?"

The Vulcan's eyes snapped open as he frowned. "Revenge? Vulcans do not exact revenge, and if we did, for what should I wish such a thing?"

Kirk blushed. "Sorry Spock, that was mean. You're not like that." Spock kept looking at him, confusion painted on his features. "For what I said to you. Earlier. In here."

Comprehension lit across Spock's face, for a second, then the stoic Vulcan mask immediately replaced.

"Twice in the course of a few weeks you have accused me a disloyalty and treason." The toneless quality of Spock's voice made Jim flinch. "Which of my actions has given you cause to-"

"None, Spock. None of them." Jim ran his hand through his hair. "I'm the one who owes _you_ an explanation. Back at Omicron Ceti III, I was simply trying to make you mad, to break the hold of the spores. I know your sense of loyalty and duty so it was a good bet that... throwing accusations of disloyalty in your face would anger you." He huffed softly. "Took a lot more than that."

"But that does not explain today."

"No, it doesn't." Kirk perched on the edge of the table, grasping the edge, studying the toes of his boots intently. "I... I was afraid. I knew you were right, you and Stocker, I wasn't fit for command anymore. But I didn't want to admit it. I felt lost. And afraid. When you came in and told me... I took it out on you. I'm sorry." The last words were nothing more than a whisper.

Spock had lowered his eyes and studied his hands, clasped in his lap. To see Jim so lost and hurt... Spock felt he could not watch.

"What about you? Why did you kiss me, Spock?"

Spock closed his eyes as he considered. _How could he explain this need for closeness? To hold him?_ His mind felt fogged and clouded, the only thing that held any clarity was that he wished to remain and recapture that earlier warmth and match it to his own. _But how could he explain his loss of control? What explanation would Jim believe?_

"Jim. Today. You... were not the only one to feel fear. When my mind lost its customary sharpness, when I could not assist as quickly as I should, I-"

The warmth of Jim's hand bled through Spock's shirt as it came to rest on his shoulder.

"Spock, I... I don't know how Vulcans do these things, _if_ you do these things, but if you're looking for company, comfort... What I am trying to say is that, well- If you need a hug, you don't have to kiss me to get it."

Spock remained as he was, eyes closed, head bent, hands clasped in his lap as the seconds ticked by.

"Say something? Please?"

_Yes, but what? Ask for even a small part of what he wanted and endanger their friendship? Or accept what he was offered?_

"Jim I do not wish to ask you for more than you wish to give."

"You want more than a hug?"

"Yes."

"I... don't know how to say this without sounding as if I'm accusing you of lying or making something up but... before, when we kissed, you weren't well... responding. At least not as far as I could tell. Of course Vulcans might be built very differently than humans, but still-"

Spock opened his eyes, briefly glancing at Jim.

"If you are referring to genital anatomy, humans and Vulcans are not so very different. But Vulcan bodies do not respond to physical stimulation alone. A mental bond is necessary as well."

"And we don't have one."

Since the sentence was phrased as a statement, Spock decided not to comment instead saying: "A bond can be created and need not be permanent."

"You can create one I take it?"

"Affirmative."

"And you... want to?"

"...yes."

"Then do it."

Spock raised his eyes and studied Jim's face, searching for any hint of reticence or hesitance. He knew only too well how often members of non-telepathic species feared the invasion of another into their minds, even if such an entrance were initially welcomed. But he could find none of these things on Jim's face.

Only by having kept his hands firmly clasped together had Spock managed keeping them still, and as he now raised one he saw it tremble softly. He almost succeeded in willing it to stillness, but slight tremors remained as it touched Jim's meld points.

It was not a full meld, though the first stage – the _kashek-herish_ – was similar, the touch of the essence of two individuals, but where a full meld merged both thoughts and memories as well as the more primal parts of the mind, a bonding touched almost exclusively on the instinctual parts. Still, the scintillating gold of Jim's mind was wondrous to behold, it felt as if he was watching a kaleidoscope of pure light.

Abruptly the twirling incandescence halted, as Jim froze, both physically and mentally, at the touch, and Spock started to retreat.

Jim's hand came up, holding Spock's in place.

"No. Don't go. It's... odd, new, but not uncomfortable. I... just didn't know what to expect."

Jim ran a thumb across the back of Spock's hand causing the Vulcan to shiver. Even without having created the bond, the nearness of Jim's mind in the _kashek-herish_ was affecting him, making it possible for his body to respond. Jim smiled.

"You felt that, didn't you?"

Spock swallowed. "Affirmative."

"Did you like it?"

Spock just nodded this time, feeling keenly how the blood vessels in his face expanded as he blushed.

"Go on then."

Jim closed his eyes and bent his head, but didn't remove his hand from Spock's. Spock could feel how the other man's mind relaxed into the mental contact.

As he waited for a moment, to see if Jim truly felt ready to proceed, Spock could feel the call of the _zavik-tel_, its deep yearning for completion. He found it difficult not to answer its call, to stay from those parts of Jim's mind where it had attached itself. But as much as he desired it, it was not permitted. Though it was not a _kal-if-farr_ bond, it contained the beginnings of one, and if he allowed it to mature it could only be broken at great pain to both him and Jim. Still he did not understand how it could have formed as it did or why it proved so resilient – though he had so far kept it blocked, it had refused to fade as it should have.

Firmly he pushed the calling aside and returned his attention to the next stage, _svimog_. Spock reached out, gathering soft trailing strands of the golden radiance, dotted with black, that was Jim; twining and warping them around the scarlet red and cool silver that was himself. He sensed Jim's mind shiver at the process.

"Do you wish to stop?"

"No! It's... I don't think there are words in English for this, but don't stop. If I want you to, I'll tell you."

Once the bond was solid enough to hold, Spock committed the _natel_, sealing it in place. Reluctantly he withdrew his mind, though the warm, scarlet-gold promise tied them.

Spock studied the blond man, who still kept his eyes closed, and saw how a soft smile curled around his lips.

"I can still feel you."

"Yes. As a non-telepath you cannot form a bond, but this joining is two way. You feel me, and I feel you."

Jim opened his eyes and his smile grew.

"So? You feel what I do, hmm?"

"Correct."

Spock suddenly grew keenly aware that his hand was still trapped beneath Jim's, pressed against his face, as the blond ran his thumb across Spock's fingers, teasing the tender skin between them. Pleasure spread through his mind and body and his breath caught.

"You like that?" The words were only nominally a question.

"A Vulcan's hands are-" Spock's breath caught again as Jim continued to rub his thumb between the Vulcan's finger. "- very sensitive."

"Really?" Jim was grinning now. "I have to remember that." He raised his free hand, cupping the back of Spock's head, threading his fingers through the black hair. "Now where were we?"

Kirk leaned forward and, tilting his head, brushed his lips over Spock's.

Their first kiss had been pleasant, unlike so many others the Vulcan had experienced over the years, but no more so than many other things. So it had often puzzled him that humans favoured this specific act so much. Jim's warm lips brushing against his, now that they had formed a bond, gave Spock a significant piece of the answer.

The gentle contact of nerve-rich skin, the fizzle of anticipation and desire sizzling through the _katelaya-tel_ the gust of humidity as Jim parted his lips, accentuated but the moist heat of the tip of Jim's tongue licking tenderly at Spock's lower lip.

Not sure what to do with his free hand, Spock raised it so it rested flat against Jim's back. He too parted his lips, expecting to feel the usual entry of a human tongue. Instead he was surprised as only the tip dipped between his lips, teasing the tip of Spock's own. He was vaguely aware of his body's reactions, but it felt impossible to focus on anything but the kiss and how it made the _katelaya-tel _thrum and pulse.

When Jim finally relented and drew back to study Spock, the Vulcan found himself panting, his face feeling flushed.

Hazel eyes flickered over him, and another smile graced Jim's lips. "I can see the difference. I assume that you did in fact like it?"

Spock frowned, momentarily not understanding what Jim referred to, the blushing even deeper as he did.

"Don't. Don't be ashamed. I'd be worried if you weren't feeling anything."

"Why-" Spock's voice broke, and cleared his throat in an attempt to steady it. "Why would that worry you?"

Jim twisted the hand that held Spock's so that their palms now touched, their fingers entwined.

"Because I don't want to do anything you don't like."

"Given my physical response I would say that you are safe in your assumption that I did like the kiss."

"I don't want to assume with you. I can usually tell with a human, but with a Vulcan? I can't be sure things mean the same."

"Most of the signs of arousal are the same in Vulcans as they are in humans. Dilated pupils, rapid breath, flushed skin, raised pulse, blood filled genitals."

The subject piqued Jim curiosity. "What signs aren't the same then?"

"I do not think you would recognise them as they are purely mental."

"You mean since I'm not a telepath?"

"Correct. Your lack of familiarity would render them meaningless and there are no words for them in Federation English since they are a non-human concept."

Spock sensed a faint pricking like irritation and... contrariness in Kirk.

"Jim? How did I distress you?"

"Not you. Just a general annoyance with the sometimes limited perspective of the Federation." The blond shook his head. "We can talk shop later, for now we have more interesting things to occupy us." His smile returned and his mind warmed and shone. "So, what else do you like?"

"I am unsure what you mean?"

"You like kissing and you like your hands caressed. But what else?"

"I... do not know."

"Surely you have some idea."

"Jim, prior to now I have not engaged in sexual activities with anyone. While my theoretical knowledge is extensive I have no practical knowledge, so I cannot answer your question in any meaningful way."

"But what about on your-" Kirk stopped himself. "No of course not. You said you need a mental connection to... become aroused. Sorry I was thinking in human terms again." Kirk straightened and stood away from the table, using his hold on Spock's hand to tug him to his feet. "Come."

Spock followed silently as Jim led them around the partition to his bed. Kirk sat down on the edge, patting the mattress. Spock hesitantly sat in the indicated place, facing his friend.

Jim reached out and took Spock's other hand as well, cradling both of them in his, letting his thumbs caress the index fingers.

"Spock, I want to make something clear. At any point you can call a halt to this, it doesn't matter what we're doing at the time or how far things have got. Tell me to stop and I will."

The Vulcan frowned. "There is a point beyond which the human body needs to find release for sexual stimulation or the effects are most unpleasant."

"That might be. But I'm not Vulcan, I can get that release on my own. It doesn't demand anyone else's participation. So, promise me this. If you don't like what's going on, let me know. We can either do something else, or stop completely." When Spock didn't answer, Jim pressed. "Promise me."

"If it is important to you, I promise."

"Good. Computer, temperature up 10 degrees." Spock tried to protest but Jim cut him off. "It's necessary, I don't want you to get uncomfortable. But first things first, take your boots off."

This was met with puzzlement from the Vulcan.

"Believe me, it's a good idea. It's a real nuisance having to stop to remove them later."

Spock bent down and removed his footwear, placing it neatly at the foot of the bed. When he straightened he found Jim already lying on the bed alongside the wall, his boots carelessly discarded on the floor. Spock pointedly picked them up and placed them next to his own.

"Always tidy," Kirk grinned.

"I have no wish to trip in them later. You are very careless of your things."

"I have more important things to think of right now."

"Such as?"

"Lie down and I'll show you."

Spock lay down on the bed, mimicking Jim's position with one arm under his head.

Jim reached out with his free hand and ran it through Spock's hair again.

"Every bit as soft as it looks."

Raising himself up on one elbow, Jim leaned over and let his lips follow the trail his fingers had blazed, then changed course to nibble along the shell of the ear while his fingertips continued down the back of Spock's neck, slowly caressing along the spine.

Spock closed his eyes, desperately trying to maintain some shred of control through the onslaught of pleasure from Jim's touch and the constant heated pulsing of his mind through the _katelaya-tel_. It abruptly stopped as Jim drew back. The blond was studying him carefully and looked about to speak.

_No! This was not the time for talk._

Spock turned onto his back, reached out and pulled Jim's head closer, sealing his lips over the human's. This time the kiss was fierce, almost possessive, this was the one "sexual" act he had been engaged in repeatedly and he put every bit of skill he had gained to use.

When he let go Jim laughed, a pleased and pleasant sound, the feeling of his mirth a delightful tickle in Spock's mind that made the Vulcan crave more. He wrapped one arm around Jim's waist and pulled their bodies together. When their groins ground together sparks flew through him, making him do it again.

"Spock," Jim gasped, putting a restraining hand on Spock's hip. "Slow down. We'll get there soon enough."

Spock frowned. _Had Jim not liked it?_ It had felt as if he did, but with his lack of experience Spock could not be certain he had not confused his own pleasure for Jim's. But Jim did not behave as if distressed. Rather he reached up and caressed Spock's face, giving him a peck on the lips.

"It's okay. I just like taking my time in bed." He smiled. "It's not as if it's a race." He gave Spock another soft kiss. "Would you say it's warm enough in here now?"

"Warm enough for what?"

Jim tugged at the blue science shirt. "Removing this?"

"I believe that I would be comfortable at the current temperature."

Spock found himself pulled up so that both of them were kneeling on the bed in front of each other. Running his hands under the blue shirt, Jim divested Spock of it, tossing it aside. Spock's gaze followed the shirt's path, frowning.

"Ignore it," Jim whispered as he leaned for another kiss, hands already tugging at Spock's black undershirt. They slid under the fabric and as they touched the naked skin beneath, brushing over the spot where Spock's chenesi lay, he felt a jolt of ecstatic heat flush him.

"Found a soft spot, did I?"

Spock frowned again. "Soft spot?"

"A place you like being touched."

"In that case, yes."

Jim briefly ran his hands over the place again. Spock grabbed hold of Jim's gold shirt, his fists clenching the fabric hard. He felt Jim's hands slide further up his back, lifting his shirt as they went, and the Vulcan sighed softly at the strange gentle pleasure of that touch. Undershirt removed as well, Jim's hands turned their attention to Spock's chest, running his fingers through the hair.

"It feels almost like a cat's fur."

"Vulcans share common ancestry with our planet's great felines, the same way humans do with primates."

"Does that mean you like being scratched behind the ears?" Jim said with a soft laugh.

"Jim, merely sharing ancestors with a species does not indicate-" His words instantly broke off as Jim had raised one finger and ran it along the shell of his ear, the feather-like touch feeling like both too much and not enough. When Jim leaned in and let his lips trace the path of his fingers, Spock realised that his torso too now was naked, and Jim's smooth skin felt wonderful as it pressed against his chest. He let his palms run over the soft, warm skin of Jim's back, feeling the muscles flex beneath his touch.

Jim's lips returned to Spock's, nibbling softly. Sighing, the Vulcan closed his eyes and let himself be lost in the heat of Jim's lips, hands, mind.

Feeling Jim apply gentle pressure to Spock's shoulders, the blond pushed the Vulcan onto his back and made quick work of divesting the Vulcan of his trousers and pants, then abruptly did nothing more.

Spock opened his eyes and found his captain studying his genitals intently, the headless shaft – horizontal ridges running down its underside – protruding proudly from the sheath that usually housed it, glistening softly. Feeling suddenly self-conscious Spock struggled to sit.

Putting a retraining hand on his shoulder, Jim pushed him back down.

"Sorry, didn't mean to get sidetracked like that. It's just... I'm not sure just what I expected, either something more human or more alien I suppose. May I?" Jim's hand hovered near the shaft, not quite touching.

Spock nodded mutely and Jim ran a single finger over the ridges causing Spock to gasp in pleasure. Growing quickly bolder, Jim folded his whole hand around the erect length stroking it tenderly and Spock found that he had to fight hard to keep his hips still.

Jim leaned in and brushed his lips over Spock's again.

"Let go," he whispered. "You're not meant to hold back here." Jim tightened his grip slightly, drawing a groan from the Vulcan.

Meeting Jim's eyes, Spock found the normally warm hazel smouldering intensely. The blazing heat of the human's mind bore down on him like a heatstorm, only to be met with the furnace now boiling inside the Vulcan.

The soft friction of the captain's hand was maddening and not enough. Grabbing Jim by the shoulders, Spock flipped them over so that Jim lay beneath him, Spock placed between his legs.

Jim was still wearing his uniform trousers, his arousal creating a bulge in them that could hardly be comfortable.

"I believe you are overdressed for the occasion, Captain."

Kirk grinned. "Looks like it. Going to do something about that, Commander?"

Spock reached up and undid the fly, peeling both trousers and pants off the blond in one go. He studied the human's revealed genitals.

"You're allowed to touch you know."

Spock reached out and let his fingers travel over the swollen head, down the shaft, to finally cradle the testicles.

_Such an exposed construction._

"Be careful. They're very vulnerable."

"I am aware."

"Actually I have a question. Where do you hide yours?"

"If you with that vague phrasing are referring to my testicles, they are located at what you termed my 'soft spot'."

Jim raised his hands to touch the same spot on Spock's back as before.

"Here."

The Vulcan nodded, his eyes closed once more. A soft, burning ache spread beneath Jim's touch, slowly growing in intensity as the blond slowly caressed the spots, becoming unbearable.

"Jim," he pleaded.

Jim applied a gentle pressure to his caresses, pushing Spock's body down against his own. The first full body contact, the merging lust of bodies and minds, undid Spock. The burning in his back flared as he felt himself ejaculate.

He immediately froze.

_Semen? There was something about that he had to remember, something crucial._ But the thought was instantly lost as Jim ran his hand over Spock's back again, nuzzling his neck and kissed him softly.

"It's okay Spock. It happens. This is new and overwhelming."

Strong fingers ran through his hair, caressing his scalp. _What was it that he-_

"Though by the feel of things you're not done yet."

Jim ground his hips up against Spock, and the friction between their erections caused all thought to flee the Vulcan's mind.

Time lost its meaning as Spock was cast adrift in the heat of Jim's pliant body and willing mind, the human giving himself without restraint, but finally the fires burned themselves down to smouldering embers.

Lying in a blissful haze knowing that Jim shared the pleasure, Spock was surprised when the captain rose from the bed. The blond leaned down and kissed him briefly.

"I'll be back in a second," he said and walked into the bathroom

In fact the captain was gone 12.7 seconds, returning with a damp wash cloth. He sat down at the edge of the bed and tenderly began to clean Spock's chest and groin.

Capturing one of Jim's hands, Spock raised it to his lips and kissed it. Jim laughed.

"There, done. It's worth taking the time to do, otherwise things can be really uncomfortable tomorrow morning."

Briefly returning to the bathroom to return the cloth, Jim crawled back into bed and curled up against Spock's side, resting his head on his shoulder.

For several minutes they lay in companionable silence, Spock feeling how Jim's mind drifted towards sleep. The Vulcan sighed. As much as he regretted it, there was something that needed to be done before they could sleep.

"Jim?"

"Mmmm." The blond nuzzled his neck then looked up a sleepy smile on his lips. "What?"

"The bond. I must dissolve it, or it might have undesired consequences."

Spock felt a heavy wave of regret wash through Jim and frowned in confusion.

"Do you not wish it?"

Jim hesitated for a moment before answering. "I supposed you had better do it. I just got used to having you up here awfully quickly." He tapped his temple.

A tiny smile grazed Spock's lips. "If there is a physical place for the bond it is beneath here." He fingers gently touched the back of Jim's skull, just over the place where it joined the spine. "Where the more primitive parts of the brain reside."

"So bonds connect on a primal level?" A yawn overpowered the blond. "I'd love to quiz you about it, but right now I need sleep. So if you're going to do anything, you had better do it right away."

Spock placed his finger over Jim's meld points, joining their minds again. Luckily undoing the temporary bond proved easier than making it, the call of the _zavik-tel_ fainter now for some reason, despite the fact that Spock's tired and unfocused mind should have made it stronger.

The bond undone, and their merging ended, he let his fingers fall away only to find his hand caught by Jim.

"Stay."

Spock looked at him.

"Please."

A gentle tug at his wrist brought him back lying side by side with Jim.

"Of course."

Jim smiled at the answer and snuggled close in against the Vulcan's shoulder. Wrapping one arm around the blond, Spock closed his eyes and let sleep take him.

_Kaiidth:_ "What is, is", "one cannot change the facts". The Vulcan version of "que sera, sera".

_Zavik-tel_: Trace bond. A bond that usually forms of its own volition. Lacking in strength and attachment to the minds involved. With time and continued use it may grow in strength and intensity, but if continuously blocked by one or both parties it will wither within weeks or months.

_Kashek-herish:_ Mind-blend/mind-merge/mind-touch. The first stage of a mindmeld, also used when creating a bonding between minds.

_Kal-if-farr bond_: marriage bond.

_Svimog:_ The Weaving. The process of forming a bond between two minds.

_Natel:_ The Binding. Last stage of creating a bond. This can be made in a permanent or temporary fashion, though there is no word to distinguish one from the other.

_Katelaya-tel:_ Mating bond. The form of bond necessary for a Vulcan to respond sexually. It can coexist with other types of bonds such as that between _Telansu_ (friends) and is a natural part of any marriage bond.


	2. Chapter 2

_Hot air burned familiarly in his lungs and the sun scorched his skin. The lirpa rested lightly in his hand. He knew this dance well, it was in his blood, and the usurper who had dared challenge him would be destroyed._

_The challenger had more skill than he had expected and evaded his every blow, then forced him to the ground using his full weight._

_At the sudden contact his mind realised with a start who he was fighting. _Why was his Chosen fighting him? Did he not feel the call?

_He felt himself being pressed further into the burning sand._

Perhaps his Chosen was fighting to see if he was a worthy mate, that he had the proper strength and skill.

_He broke the blade of the _lirpa_ easily and tossed it aside, thus dislodging his Chosen. Seizing his own, he lashed out against his Chosen in play. He would prove that he was indeed worthy; he would bring his Chosen to heel._

_His Chosen was proving skilled in surviving indeed, but then he was not a worthy mate. He lost his weapon and intended to battle on with his bare hands when combat was interrupted._

"_Kroi-ka!"_

_He composed himself in patience. He knew he would have another chance to see prove himself, or perhaps his Chosen had seen sense and would yield now._

_He felt the leather of the _ahn-woon_ being pressed into his hand. His Chosen had not seen sense then. He would._

_But his Chosen only intensified the struggle, pushing him away, forcing him onto the sands. _Why did he continue to struggle?

_Grabbing his Chosen by the throat, he forced him near the burning coal and his mind bore down on him. _Yield!

_But still his Chosen fought with all his skill and strength and despair rose. _Was the challenge legitimate? Did his Chosen truly wish to cast him aside? He could not, such an event was inconceivable. He _had_ to accept.

_Despair rose in his soul. _If his Chosen wished to have him replaced... then what? How was this possible?

_Feeling his body move as if of its own volition, he wrapped the _ahn-woon_ around his Chosen's throat, pulling him up against him and tipping both of them backwards onto the sands. His mind bore down on the now fading consciousness once more._

Yield! You have no choice!

ALIGN=CENTERoOoOo

Spock started out of the dream and lay staring at the ceiling for a moment, heart hammering in his side. Everything was wrong, the light, the temperature, the bedding. _Where was he?_

Then he recalled.

_Jim!_

The bed was empty but he was thankful that he was alone. _How could he have permitted such a loss of control on his part?_ The stressful events of the day were hardly a satisfactory explanation.

His dream remained with him in stark detail – the burning sands of his home planet vivid in his mind – and it troubled him deeply. Vulcans rarely dreamt, but when they did it was to bring to the fore something they, for one reason or another, had chosen to illogically suppress.

He went through the events of last night and a dread rose in him as he recalled what his lust addled mind had not been able to: male Vulcans only produce sperm during _pon farr_.

_But his time had been terminated, had it not?_

The sound of the bathroom door sliding open made him look up to see Jim step back into the cabin, completely naked.

With the yearning of his dream still riding the Vulcan's body, the desire to go to Jim, wrap himself around that body and feel the hot, silken skin against his own, to plunder that smiling mouth until steady gasps emerged from it, nearly overpowered Spock.

_No!_ He could not, would not, permit another unforgivable loss of control on his part. If last night had indeed been _pon farr_ it provided an explanation, though not an excuse, but to persist in this would be unacceptable.

"Spock?" The sound of the captain's warm, throaty voice taunted him. "I'm sorry if I woke you, but I always take a shower first thing when I wake. I'm a bit of a slave to routine I'm afraid, sometimes that's all that keeps me going."

The Vulcan kept his body rigid, fighting hard to maintain his control. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

He heard bare feet padding across the deck and felt the mattress dip as Jim sat.

"Spock, are you alright?" A hand was placed on his knee, he could feel the warmth of it through the covers. He was thankful that he had had the wherewithal last night to at least dissolve the bond, had it still existed he knew his body would have responded and he was unsure if he could have kept himself under control.

"Did I hurt you?" The worry in his captain's voice felt like salt in an open wound. The fault lay squarely with him, not Jim. He forced his eyes to open and meet the distressed hazel gaze.

"I am unharmed. But my mental shields are compromised and have been since yesterday, to continuously be exposed this way is... uncomfortable."

Another not-quite-lie. _How many had he told over the last twelve hours? What had happened to make him so callous about the truth?_

But the words had the desired effect, Jim pulled his hand away and he scooted down towards the end of the bed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think of that. Is there something I can do?"

Spock's forced his breath to remain calm and regular. "Negative. I require a time of meditation to restore the shields to their optimum condition."

"Okay. I guess I should let you have some time alone." Jim sounded regretful but smiled. "I suppose this leaves a farewell kiss out of the question."

Even without the mental link, the need to claim Jim clamoured inside Spock and he was uncertain he would be able to keep control of himself if he touched the captain.

"That would be... unwise."

"You had better get dressed then, walking down the corridor as you are would create quite a stir," Jim grinned.

Spock climbed out of bed feeling self-conscious in ways he had not the night before. Thankfully the captain too started to get dressed and was thus kept busy with his own grooming. Moving with precision and deliberation the Vulcan dressed himself, trying hard to give the appearance that nothing was amiss. Once done he walked to the door, restraining himself from another display of uncontrolled behaviour by running. He felt the captain's eyes on his back as he exited but refrained from turning, knowing that if he laid eyes on the other man his tenuous control would possibly evaporate.

Still keeping from running, but now only just, he made his way back to his cabin. Once inside he stumbled to his desk and sank legless down on the chair.

"Computer, lock the door." His voice sounded hoarse and hollow in his ears as he spoke.

At the tell-tale whirr-beep of the doorlock engaging he slumped forward over the desk, head resting on his outstretched arms, his whole body trembling.

His mind felt as if it was caught in a sand storm, thoughts whirling away from him the moment they formed.

_How had it happened- _

ALIGN=RIGHT_On the sands of Vulcan- _

_How could he lose control that way- _

ALIGN=CENTER_The need to go back to Jim's cabin, to taste him-_

ALIGN=RIGHT_Yield!- _

_The softness of hot skin against his- _

ALIGN=RIGHT_The shameful delight of that body-_

ALIGN=CENTER_Pon farr_-

The last thought stayed with him and brought the memory of his dream with it.

He knew so little about it, had thought – hoped – that his mixed blood would spare him and therefore had, illogically, chosen to remain largely ignorant. An ignorance that had nearly cost the captain his life.

Even after the events on Vulcan, Spock had not read up on the subject, always he had found excuses not to, made claims to himself that his duties did not leave him time, but in his heart he knew that it was shame that kept him from it. And now perhaps it had even caused this.

He could remain ignorant no longer.

His hand hovered over the PADD. _Should he mediate first, repair his shields? No!_ If he did, he knew he would put this off yet again.

Firmly he grasped the PADD and went to the shelf where he kept the datacard with the information he had requested from the healers of Vulcan. Determinedly slotting the card into the PADD, he went back to his desk. Using his comm station he left a message requesting to be removed from duty for his upcoming shift due to health reasons – _again a not-quite-lie, his psychic health was less than optimal_ – and then he settled down and began to read.

The information was thorough, but succinct and quickly read. And very startling.

As he put down the PADD he noticed that his hands were shaking and he willed them still. Another sign of his lack of self-control. His terminal beeped and he pressed the button.

"Spock here."

McCoy's visage appeared on screen, the second to last person he wanted to see at the moment. Spock forced himself not to frown.

"Spock, I just got notification that you reported off sick."

The Vulcan refrained from commenting on the obvious statement – as CMO, of course McCoy would receive notification when any crewmember reported sick – leading the doctor to huff in irritation.

"Can I ask why?"

He knew the doctor would not let the matter go until he had received some form of explanation.

"I find that my mental shields are compromised to a degree that leaves me unable to function optimally around very emotional beings, such as humans, possibly due to the rapid ageing and deageing we experienced yesterday. In my current state I would not only operate below my usual efficiency; in an emergency situation I might become a risk to the ship's survival."

McCoy's eyes narrowed.

"You're awfully forthcoming Spock, normally I have to drag every bit of information out of you with a set of pliers."

The Vulcan ground his teeth in chagrin. He should have known better than to talk too much to the doctor, while the man was often overly emotional his powers of observation had always been keen.

"While your methods are often quite medieval, I cannot recall you using something that crude on my person. It simply seemed that the most efficient course for ending our... conversation quickly was to provide you the required information. Now if you will excuse me, I shall meditate to restore my shields."

"Sure you don't want to come by sickbay for a check up?"

The doctor's tone indicated that he had returned to joking, taking Spock's words at face value.

"Unlikely. If I find myself in need of beads and rattles I am sure Lieutenant Uhura will lend me some from her sewing equipment and instrument collection," the Vulcan retaliated and disconnected.

Looking at the now dark screen he found his equilibrium somewhat restored from the verbal sparring. _Remarkable._

Changing into his meditation robe, he knelt in front of his idol, lit the fire bowl and put a handful of incense on the smouldering coals.

He firmly turned his mind to the primary piece of information on _pon farr_ he had gleaned from the datacard. _Acts of violence did not purge the Madness from the blood, merely suppressed the symptoms temporarily, and prolonged stress could keep them down for a considerable amount of time._

So his Time had not been done after Vulcan as he had assumed; the need for mating had merely been postponed. Until last night.

On one hand the fact that his loss of control had a simple, logical explanation filled him with relief, but he had sated his Madness with an unknowing mate and that shamed him, as did the memory of his delight in feeling Kirk writhe helplessly beneath him, pleading. Even more shameful was his desire to feel it again.

_Was the strong yearning to return to the captain's quarters a symptom that his Time was not done? No, once mating was begun it could not be interrupted until over, that much was certain. But just as the onset of loss of control was usually gradual, so often was the return of it. And his dream, surely his mind had meant to warn him of the danger he represented to the captain? _As things stood, until he was certain that he could restrain himself around the captain he would have to be careful.

He knew that he would have to address the issue with the captain, some form of official reprimand was surely in order, but for the moment his main concern was to re-establish his shields and what control he could manage.

3.4 hours later he rose, having restored himself as much as he could at the moment. Shedding his robe he went to bathroom to clean himself up. Stepping under the shower head, he felt a brief regret at losing the musky smell of Jim that still clung to his skin, and he ruthlessly suppressed that feeling as he turned on the sonic.

Once properly cleaned and dressed in his usual immaculate uniform, Spock briefly considered his next action. The ship's clock showed 13:36, the approximate time when he commonly ate lunch. Having not had breakfast he found himself famished and decided to head to the mess.

He arrived to find the room a quarter full, most either having already eaten or not yet having arrived to do so. He promptly spotted Kirk sitting a bit off to the left, in deep conversation with Ensign Consuela Fuertes, one of Scotty's protégés. Across the table from the captain sat Dr Wallace wearing an annoyed mien.

Spock exhaled softly. The sight of the captain had elicited no particular response in him, so it appeared that he had himself back under control.

Heading towards the food synthesizer he cast one last glance at the captain. The captain said something that made the ensign laugh and grab his shoulder, shaking it. Anger unlike any he had ever felt flashed through him and it was only the great distance between them kept him from seizing hold of the ensign and ripping her away.

Shock rapidly overrode anger. Fearing what he might do if he remained, Spock turned on his heel and exited the mess. Staggering through the corridors he found his way to the nearest science lab. Seeing it was empty he stumbled in, locked the door and sat, shaken, down on a chair.

_How had this happened?_

The ferocity of his anger shook him to his core. No proper Vulcan would ever feel this way, and at such little provocation. _How many times had he witnessed Jim socialise with crew members?_ He was a man with an easy laugh and at ease with physical contact; none of what had occurred was even remotely unusual. The only abnormality was his own response to it.

_Would he respond the same way if it happened again?_

He could not permit that. They were not bondmates, he had no right to make demands of Jim – the _zavik-tel_ was an aberration for which he had no explanation and could not be counted in this – but he could not ensure that he would not react the same way if faced with a similar situation. And considering how close he had come to acting on his impulse, he could not be certain that he would be able to control his physical actions the next time.

Clearly his control was not yet fully restored from his _pon farr_. That was the only explanation he could find for his abrupt, illogical desires and responses.

Very well, until he was completely in control of himself again he simply had to avoid the captain as much as possible and take particular care to not be alone with the man. He did not want to imagine what he might do if he had Jim to himself. It would be impossible to avoid him completely, they worked too many shifts together, but until he had restored his control he must keep himself busy in the outside hours and not give himself time to contemplate his yearnings. Permitting such idle thoughts could only spell disaster.

Suppressing his hunger – he could eat later, when he was sure the captain would not be around – he turned one of the workstations on. There were always tests to be run, or reports to be finished. He would occupy himself with them.

42 hours later they arrived at Starbase 6. The transporters had again decided to be less than cooperative, so Dr. Wallace and Commodore Stocker were transferred to the base via one of the Enterprise's shuttles.

Spock had so far succeeded in his efforts to avoid the captain outside of work hours, even to the extent that he had begged out of "seeing the passengers off" that afternoon. Thus it was with no little surprise that he found Dr Wallace entering the lab shortly before she was scheduled to depart.

"Doctor, I believe you are expected in the shuttle bay."

She studied him carefully.

"Not for another twenty minutes, and I wanted to talk to you."

Spock raised his eyebrows inquiringly.

"In private."

He demonstratively looked about in the abandoned room, then back at Dr Wallace.

"As you wish. I just wanted to wish you luck, but you really shouldn't be getting your hopes up."

The Vulcan frowned.

"I do not follow."

"Don't think I'm blind, Commander. I'm not stupid either. I saw how you looked at Jim the other day in the mess. I don't know much about Vulcans but you appear to be strictly monogamous. Jim doesn't work that way, he gets bored and moves on."

"You are formulating a hypothesis on one point of data, something any good scientist knows not to do."

"It's more than just _one_ point of data, Commander, that was just the most blatant one. Don't fall for him, you'll only get hurt when he decides he's had enough of you."

"I am Vulcan, Doctor, we do not 'fall'."

She looked at him dubiously.

"Suit yourself. Just don't say you weren't warned."

"I consider myself duly warned, Doctor. Now if you'll excuse me I have work to do, and I believe you have a shuttle to be on."

He turned back to the workstation, focusing on the petri dish in front of him. After a moment he heard the whoosh of the door opening and closing as Dr Wallace left.

_For those interested in reading the headcanon on Vulcan sexuality and pon farr on which this is based can read them here and here. The first one is on Vulcan sexuality in general and the second on pon farr._


	3. Chapter 3

It was only with the greatest of difficulty that Spock succeeded in keeping the words on the screen legible, his mind constantly wanting to make them into gibberish. His venture into the interiors of the gargantuan energy draining amoeba they had encountered had sapped more of his strength than he had let on to either the captain or the doctor.

He knew that he should rest, but found himself continuously postponing retiring, knowing that in his exhaustion he would not be able to keep his dreams of the captain and the sands of Vulcan at bay. He had hoped that they would abate with time, but they had not. Nor had his irrational irritation when the captain was too close or too friendly with another, or his desire to hold the man in his arms, taste his lips, feel the silky heat of his skin and the teasing golden mind.

He had maintained his distance from the captain. He was still uncertain whether it was safe for them to be together in the same room, but as long as there were others present he could at least count on being stopped should he ever lose control.

A flash of annoyance ran through him at his drifting thoughts. He immediately suppressed both that and the idle musings; neither were acceptable for a Vulcan.

He returned his attention to the screen and his report, but soon fatigue once more eased the way for his mind's meanderings.

So much about this situation was illogical. There had been no permanent repercussions from their mating, he _had_ succeeded in dissolving the bond he had formed with the captain, and yet he was still drawn towards him. Nor had the _zavik-tel_ faded as it should have. He had kept a permanent block on the nascent bond and the lack of stimulation should have made it fade after so many weeks of being starved, and yet it had not.

Like the events of the day the whole matter was illogical and contradictory, as if backwards was forward and up, down. Logic failed to aid him and he felt lost. It was the thing on which the Vulcan culture was built, without it they would not be.

Although, in the case of the 400 Vulcans aboard the Intrepid, it was their logic that had killed them. _Had they been able to move beyond it, could they perhaps have saved themselves?_ But they had not. He had felt them, their puzzlement, their lack of understanding of what was occurring. In many ways they had been as trapped in their logic as the Nomad probe had been in its programming. It had been unable to accept the crucial contradiction of the facts of the situation and to continue to function despite it. Incapable of doing anything other than carry out its machine logic, it had in the end destroyed itself.

But no living being was a machine, not even a Vulcan. However much they prized logic they should have been able to keep on functioning in a situation that was not logical, and yet they had not.

_Had his people become so locked in their logical mindset that they were truly unable to see beyond it? And if that was true, what did that say about himself? Facts could not be changed, even when they were, or appeared, illogical. But what then did one do about an illogical situation, about facts that made no sense? Or perhaps logic itself was not the problem. Perhaps it was that the wrong form of logic was being applied._

The sound of the door buzzer brought him back from his reverie.

He pressed the door opener and the captain stepped through the doorway. The blond man's face was drawn and deeply lined, dark bags creating heavy shadows beneath his eyes and his shoulders slumped. The urge to reach out, pull Jim into his arms and hold him close, felt overwhelming.

"Spock." A tired smile curled his lips for a moment.

Spock rose from his seat, clasping his hands behind his back to ensure that he took no inappropriate actions.

"How are you?"

"I am functional."

Kirk's eyes examined him closely. The slide of those hazel eyes over his body caused a slight frisson in his abdomen.

"Still, that creature must have taken quite a bit out of you?" Before Spock had a chance to answer Kirk's eyes fell on the lit terminal and he continued. "Don't tell me you're writing your report now."

"It is something that needs to be done. I prefer to do it while all events are fresh in my mind."

"I thought Vulcans had eidetic memories?"

"Of a kind, but even the best memory can acquire errors over time. The closer to the original event, the smaller the chance of such an error occurring."

Kirk ran a hand over his tired face.

"You should be resting. I know what being inside of that thing did to everyone else on this ship and you were inside it a whole lot longer than the rest of us." Spock opened his mouth to protest, but Kirk cut him off. "I don't care if you're Vulcan. It doesn't mean you're indestructible. Remember?"

As he spoke Jim took several steps inside the room, approaching the Vulcan. Spock slowly stepped backwards, around his desk, putting it between him and the captain.

"I do recall," Spock answered flatly. _How could he ever forget?_

The captain's face turned angry. "Okay, what exactly did I do Spock?"

"I do not follow?"

"Like hell you don't. Ever since that night you've been avoiding my company. You'll speak to me in a professional capacity, but when was the last time we talked privately? When was the last time we had a game of chess or just chatted?"

"56.7 standard days ago."

"Exactly. Which puts it before the events of Gamma Hydra II. And perhaps more importantly, before we had sex. Did I do something that night, something you didn't want? Did I frighten you or... something? Talk to me Spock, what happened to make you so cold?"

Jim's voice had grown increasingly pleading as he spoke, his tone making Spock look away, no longer able to face him.

"Do you regret it?" Jim voice was slightly more than a whisper.

Spock did not know how to answer. Any answer he made would by necessity touch on subjects he would rather leave alone and yet they must be addressed, the captain had a right to know what exactly transpired on that night.

The seconds dragged on as Spock tried to find a starting point to his answer and Kirk's face slowly fell.

"You do. Damn it Spock, if you didn't want it why didn't you say something. I never wanted to push something on you that you didn't want."

"You did not." Spock swallowed hard, there seemed no other option than to simply speak and let the words find their own way. "There are certain facts about that night that you are not aware."

"Enlighten me then." Kirk folded his arms.

"Contrary to an earlier belief my _pon farr_ was not successfully concluded. The violence and subsequent stress merely suppressed the condition, a fact of which I was unaware at the time."

Jim snapped to attention. "But it's done now? What we shared completed it? You're... safe now?" When Spock didn't immediately answer in the affirmative Kirk's voice tensed. "Damn it Spock, you can't gamble with your life this way. If you still need-"

"I do not," Spock interrupted the tirade. "There have been no further... physical symptoms."

The pause was minute, but enough that the captain caught it.

"Any other kind of symptoms?"

"Not of _pon farr_."

"Of what then?"

"I do not know."

"What kind of symptoms?"

The captain was like a dog with a bone, refusing to let go. Spock didn't move, merely stood to attention with his hands still clasped behind his back.

"You are not getting away with stonewalling me again. I should never have let this lie for this long and I won't leave without an answer." As Jim spoke he moved closer to the Vulcan, backing him into a corner. "What 'symptoms', Commander? Since this appears to interfere with your ability to be in my company, as your CO I have a right to know what it is."

"Captain, please."

"No _Commander_, this time I won't back down."

Jim now stood so close that his chest almost touched Spock's and the Vulcan could feel the heat coming off the other man's body. He yearned to reach out, wrap his arms around Jim, run his hands through his silky hair. His breathing was coming fast and laboured.

"Jim," he pleaded.

The captain's features softened and he took a small step back.

"Spock, I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but if you're experiencing something that has this profound an effect on our relationship... As your captain I have a need to know what it is, as your friend... I want to know: what can I do to change it?"

"There is nothing you can do, Captain."

"Maybe, maybe not. You can tell me what it is then we can figure this out together."

Spock sat down on the edge of his desk, realising that Jim wasn't going to let this slide without additional information.

"I... wish to touch you. When I see others do so I... dislike it."

"Dislike?" Spock nodded once. "In what way?"

"I wish for them to stop, or for you to step away."

"I see." Spock frowned. _How could Jim understand this?_ "Let me ask you a question, Spock. Did you like it? Sex I mean?"

"I- Yes."

Kirk shook his head. "Damn time for you to start reacting like a human."

"While I cannot excuse my actions I see no reason to insult me."

"It's wasn't meant as one, but you are." Kirk sighed. "Spock, humans have been having guilt trips over sex for centuries. We've finally moved past them, but they caused untold miseries throughout our history. Except your guilt trip isn't over sex, not really. You lost control, that's your problem. You lost control and you liked it. And now you're tying yourself in knots over it."

Kirk's words felt like whip lashes, stripping away his control as a real whip might do skin.

"Can't you see how illogical it all is?"

Spock surged up from the table, grabbed the captain by the arms and brought his body flush against his own. The feel of the hot flesh sang through him with teasing promise.

"You make light of this," he snapped. "If I released my control, took what I wish, do you think you have the power to resist me? You forget what I am, what my people once were, what still lives within us. Do _not_ make light of this."

Despite his shields, despite blocking the _zavik-tel_, Spock would have sworn he could feel fear/lust/confusion/hurt flash through Jim's body, before being sublimated by anger. The emotion jarred, like a disharmonic chord.

The captain stared at him, eyes hard and face stony.

"Okay, you have me. I'm right here Spock. As you just pointed out, even at my best I wouldn't be able to stop you and right now I'm too tired to put up much of a fight, mentally or physically. You want me? Take me."

The captain's voice was harsh and unyielding. _Still he refused to understand. He had to make him see the danger._

Quickly shifting his grip, Spock spun the blond around, pinned one arm behind Kirk's back, seized him by the throat with his free hand and brought him back against his chest so that only his toes touched the ground.

Throughout the manhandling Kirk remained passive, offering no resistance, but neither did he submit. He simply let Spock do as he wished, moving him as if he were a mannequin.

Having Jim in his grasp, the Vulcan found himself uncertain what to do next. The smell and feel of Jim still called to him, but something jarred. This was not what he had envisioned.

Jim remained unmoving as the seconds passed.

"Well, are you going to hold me like this all night?" Jim's voice was still hard, but not quite as implacable as before.

"This isn't what you want is it? You can have me right now, but only by force. Is that what you're interested in?" More seconds ticked by but neither of them moved. The suddenly Jim leaned back, tilting his head backwards so that it rested on Spock's shoulder.

"Or is this what you were waiting for?" Jim's voice was warm and soft now. "For me to give in." He tilted his head so that his lips could brush against Spock's jaw.

The Vulcan let go as if the touch burned him.

Jim turned around, gently massaging his shoulder.

"You were never a danger that way, to me or anyone." Spock made to protest again. "I'm not discounting how dangerous you are. I underestimated you once and we both paid a price for that."

Jim's eyes grew sad.

"A price you are still paying, aren't you. Is that what this is about? That you hurt me then?"

Spock looked down on his boots._ How could he explain the feeling? Of being driven to fight by instincts as old as his species, but at the same time something at the very core of his being rebelling against it, crying out at the wrongness of it all, trying vainly to leash the rampant monster._

Jim stepped forward and took him by the shoulders, the warmth of his hands bleeding through the uniform shirt.

"Spock, I've long since forgiven you – if it was even something that needed forgiving. I wish you would forgive yourself as well."

The Vulcan was keenly reminded of how Jim had held him after Nomad had released him from the meld, of the worry in the captain's voice, the concern in his eyes. At the time, the crisis at hand had prevented him from doing more than taking momentary enjoyment in the act. He was thankful that his sense of duty had remained a successful chain on his yearning to prolong the moment. But for days afterwards he had taken care not to be too close to Jim.

Now there was no crisis. And his duty? _Which one? The one to his Vulcan heritage? The one to his captain, the man who held him so gently? And what of this call inside him? The one that drew him inexplicably to Jim. What of that?_

Jim stepped closer, arms starting to encircle Spock.

By reflex he stepped back, out of Jim's grip.

"Captain, may I remind you that I am Vulcan?" The words were out of his mouth before he had time to think about it.

A flash of hurt passed in Kirk's eyes.

"Damn it Spock, what is wrong with you?" he snapped.

"There is nothing wrong Captain, I merely wish to finish my report."

"Your-" Kirk's voice broke off, anger and confusion warring on his face. "Nothing wrong? You've been running hot and cold and now you utterly refuse to talk to me. We've cleared the _pon farr_ bit so what is it Spock? We're friends, surely you can talk to me?"

The Vulcan didn't answer, only looked down at his feet.

"Aren't we?" Hurt won out on the captains features. "What am I to you Spock? Now?"

"I do not know."

"I see." Kirk voice held complete defeat, his shoulders slumped and he lowered his head. "Well, I'll leave you to your work then, Commander." The words were terse as if he could barely force them past his lips.

As the captain turned to leave Spock felt a wave of pain that almost overwhelmed him.

_Jim's? How was that possible, at a distance, with the bond blocked? Illogical, but true._

He looked up to see Kirk crossing the floor, body dejected, feet dragging as if they were too heavy to lift. He could not allow Jim to leave like this. His problems were his own: Jim should not pay for his confusion.

As Kirk reached the door he stumbled and had to lean against it in order to not fall. In four long strides Spock was at Kirk's side and gently grabbed his arm. The blond looked up.

"What is it Spock?" Jim's voice was terse.

"Jim I... apologise. I cannot truthfully give you an answer to your question, but please, do not leave." He struggled to find the right words. "When I came to your quarters after the events of Gamma Hydra IV, you offered me comfort in whatever way I required it, asking for nothing in return. Let me offer you the same now."

Hoping to illustrate the sincerity of his offer, Spock tenderly ran his hand down Jim's arm.

"Oh is this the Vulcan way?" Kirk snapped, but immediately regretted his words. "I'm sorry Spock, I didn't mean that. I'm tired."

"I do not know if this is the Vulcan way... I did not have many friends growing up. But tonight it is _my_ way. If you wish it."

"Spock I-" Kirk shook his head causing him to sway dangerously and if Spock had not tightened his grip on Jim's arm once more, the blond would probably have toppled over. Instead, the man ended up leaning heavily against Spock's shoulder.

The exhaustion pouring from Jim was almost overpowering, how the human still managed to remain on his feet, Spock could not comprehend.

"Jim, how many stimulants did you have Doctor McCoy give you?"

Kirk snapped his head up his head.

"Don't you start too, I've already heard it from Bones. Enough for me to save the ship." His voice broke. "And you."

The lines of Jim's face seemed to deepen as Spock felt pain once more rise inside the captain.

"Jim." He said the name as something between a prayer and a plea, gently cupping the back of Kirk's head.

Jim wrapped his arms around Spock's chest, holding tightly. The Vulcan found himself at a loss for words. Rather than risk saying the wrong thing he let his actions speak for him and held Jim just as tightly.

As the minutes passed he could feel the captain's fatigue increase steadily, but the other man did not let go. Spock too found himself reluctant to relinquish the human, added to the fact that if he allowed Jim to leave he was likely to push himself even further out of sheer stubbornness. He could find only one answer to the problem.

Lifting the captain if he was a child, Spock carried him to the bed and put him down on it.

"Bad idea, Commander."

"May I ask why?"

"As tired as I am, I'll probably end up sleeping here."

"As you are much in need of rest, it appears that this might, in fact, be a good idea."

"Only if you sleep here with me." Spock was about to protest. "You need rest as much as I do. Come here." Jim padded the bed.

Spock hesitated.

"Okay then." Kirk pushed himself up with a tired sigh.

Spock gently restrained him, grabbing him by the shoulder and pushing him back down.

"I had no intention of forgoing sleep." Jim shot him a disbelieving look. "But I should like to change in private." Spock nodded toward the bathroom.

Perhaps this sense of modesty was odd considering prior events, but undressing in front of Jim made Spock feel uncomfortable. Thankfully Jim did not comment on it.

"Of course, Mr Spock. But I'm not sleeping until you're back. And don't even think about drawing out time, if you're not out in ten minutes I'll come fetch you," Jim grinned.

"Very well, Captain."

Spock grabbed the black silk robe he usually slept in and disappeared into the bathroom. He quickly changed and only took a minute to brush his teeth, suspecting that Jim would make good on both his promises, and not wishing to delay the captain's rest any more than necessary. But when he returned, he found that Jim had already lost his battle with exhaustion and was lying curled up on his side, snoring softly. His back was against the wall, leaving plenty of space for the Vulcan.

Spock did not lie down. Instead he sat down on the edge of the bed and studied the sleeping man. Before nodding off, Jim had pulled off his boots and most of his clothes, keeping only his briefs on. The discarded items had been dumped unceremoniously on the floor.

Spock briefly considered not lying down at all, but he had made his captain a promise and he always did his best to keep his word. Ordering the lights down to ten percent, less likely to disturb Jim's sleep, he lay down on the edge of the bed, back towards the room, so that he faced the sleeping man.

He had expected the urge, usually powerful, would increase dramatically now, with Jim so close and nothing to distract him, instead it appeared to calm – a breeze instead of the expected storm.

_Illogical._

But then everything about this situation was utterly illogical and contradictory. Here, this close to the man he had tried so hard to avoid for weeks, in the very situation he had tried to avoid, he had finally found the peace that had escaped him since Gamma Hydra IV.

"_What am I to you... now?"_

Kirk's question echoed in his mind. The captain deserved an answer at the very least, but he had none to give. At every turn the facts of the situation contradicted logic: What should exacerbate the situation seemed to ameliorate it, the _zavik-tel_ should have faded to nothing by now – but it remained stubbornly lodged in his mind.

Spock sighed. Very well, so be it – the facts could not be contradicted, that was the very nature of them, hence his logic must be wrong. For his whole life he had relied on logic to carry him through, and the thought that perhaps it would not do so in this instant sat uncomfortably with him.

But before he could decide whether he would have to abandon logic altogether or merely apply it in a different form, he needed more facts. His complete avoidance of this issue had left him ill-equipped to deal with it.

First things first. The wild fantasies his brain insisted in indulging in appeared to abate when Jim was actually close. Would this also apply if he touched him?

Cautiously, bracing for all eventualities, Spock reached out and laid his hand on top of Jim's, closing his finger around it, the warmth of the human spreading pleasantly into his hand.

The wave of passion he nowadays felt at physical contact with Jim, the need to caress, to claim, did not come. _Puzzling._

He lifted his hand and cupped the back of Jim's head, feeling the soft strands tease his palm. Still the overpowering urge did not come. It was still present, but held nowhere near the strength it usually did.

He frowned. He could think of no further way to add data and decided to move ahead with his enquiries. The _zavik-tel_, then.

Spock closed his eyes, beginning the breathing pattern he used for meditation. Placing himself in a light trance state, he dismantled the block on the bond. Immediately he felt it flare to life, and would have describe it as doing so _enthusiastically_, if he had been prone to anthropomorphise such things. It curled its threads around the base of his mind, eagerly grasping for what it had been denied for so long. Through the trace bond, he could feel the soft murmur of the captain's sleeping mind.

Spock heard Jim sigh softly in his sleep. Opening his eyes he saw a warm smile on the other man's face.

_Did he too feel the actions of the bond?_

Closing his eyes again, he focused inwards, at the point in his mind where the bond was rooting itself. He hesitated for a moment – the logical course would be to examine it closely, study its strength and depth, as well as the attachment in Jim's mind – but the latter would be an invasion of Jim's mind for which he had not received permission.

Considering, he finally decided to examine the bond's strength and depth from his own side as best he could. Once he had gathered what information he could from that, he could decide how best to proceed.

Gathering his mind he touched the twining strands of gold, black, red and silver. They immediately appeared to reach for his conscious mind, drawing him closer in a welcoming embrace.

_Far too strong for a trace bond._

He permitted their touch, letting his consciousness follow them as they stretched between his mind and Jim's. He set his mind firmly on the _tel-yut_ they had woven, but rather than attempt to traverse it across to Jim's mind, he sought downwards, plunging the depths of the _tel-yut_.

By its very nature, a _zavik-tel_ had little depth and hence little strength, but this bond possessed both strength and endurance in copious measure. That fact had already led Spock to the conclusion that it would have at least some depth to it, but the reality of it made him stagger. As he traced it downwards there seemed to be no end to it, it was almost as if-

_No. That could not be. It was impossible. There was only one kind of bond that reached the level of soul, but such a bond could not form with a non-Vulcan._

The shock of the idea led Spock to a brief moment of utter recklessness. He plunged as deep as his conscious mind would take him. Still the bond did not appear to have an end, still gold and black wove together with red and silver. In stunned comprehension he reached towards the gold and black, the strands reaching out towards him, enveloping him, holding, pulling him nearer.

_No!_

He yanked his mind out of the soft, tempting embrace, back into consciousness.

Reeling from the sudden change of conscious state, he lay for a moment panting, until a groan from Jim drew his attention.

The captain had rolled onto his back, his face drawn – a frown creased his brow and his lips were pulled into a discontented line. The man groaned again and muttered something that to the Vulcan sounded almost like 'Spock'. The abrupt break in their connection had clearly disturbed the captain.

_No, that was not true. He had been blind to the truth, but now he had his answers and could remain blind no longer._ It was _not_ just the abrupt parting of their minds that distressed Jim. The very fabric of their beings was woven together and the troubled state of Spock's own mind and soul was affecting Jim, just as Jim had been affecting him. Now he understood why so many of the impulses he had felt these last many weeks had had a slightly odd, almost alien, feel to them – they were not entirely his own.

Willing his mind and soul into stillness, Spock reached for Jim. Not quite certain how to offer the comfort his friend clearly needed, he lifted the human into his arms and cradled him. Touching his consciousness to the bond he attempted to transmit calm and comfort through it.

_Shhh, t'hy'la. Rest, sleep. All is well, I am here._

Cupping the back of Jim's head, he ran his fingers through his hair. Slowly the captain once more fell into a restful sleep.

Spock studied him, still gently petting his hair.

_T'hy'la_. The word echoed in his head. _How could he have missed this? The most sacred bond of his people. And the dreams that had haunted his sleep since Gamma Hydra IV, _this_ was what they had been trying to tell him. How could he have been so blind?_

So many things that had not made sense before now did so. How often had he felt disturbed without any apparent cause, only to find that Jim was distressed? The times where he had known that the captain was in danger, though there was no proof, no evidence. He had, illogically, dismissed them all as aberrances, unworthy of his time.

_What of his deep affection for the man? And the recent impulses he had experienced, the yearning to touch, hold, caress? How much of those were his own and how much was Jim's? Had he known this, would he have been less keen on simply suppressing and controlling them?_ If they came from Jim, which seemed very likely given that now when the man slept they were lessened, then he had been denying the one who was tied to his _katra_ for no good reason, an action that was abhorrent to any Vulcan.

_Had his dedication to the Vulcan way made him ignore what was right in front of him, to commit such a heinous act? No, not dedication. Obsession._

He had told Doctor McCoy that he did not understand the nature of obsession, never realising how true that statement was. He had needed look no further than himself for its symptoms. And despite having witnessed this behaviour from Jim he had been unable to see it in himself.

_A form of blindness, the inability to perceive anything lying outside the object of the obsession._

But then, the formation of this kind of bond with this man was entirely illogical. No Vulcan had ever formed it with someone of another species. It took a great deal of time to form and even if a Vulcan had a _katra_ compatible with, say, a Human or an Andorian, it was unlikely that the two would spend enough time together for the bond to form.

Suddenly Spock couldn't help but laugh, which was something he had never before done while in his right mind, but the situation was so absurd. He had formed a bond that lay at the very core of the Vulcan soul – proving that at his core he was indeed Vulcan – but he had formed it with a human. As ever he was trapped between those two worlds, Vulcan and Terra, though this time he could not regret it. However, it shamed him deeply that if he had only understood it sooner, so much would have been different.

_Kaiidth_. He could not change what had been, only what was, and what was to come. He would need to explain this to Jim. For all that his people treasured this bond, they were not blind to the dangers it presented. For this reason at least he would need to explain to his captain, although he was not sure how. Could any human understand the meaning of something so deeply rooted in the Vulcan mindset and culture?

There was nothing he could do about this now unless he woke the captain, which was out of the question. Resigning himself, he put a perfunctory block on the _zavik-tel_ – one did not root around unwelcome in the mind of another – and closed his eyes, permitting himself to fall asleep.

ALIGN=CENTERoOoOo

Spock woke instantly, as was the norm for his species, and was immediately aware of the warm human body pressed against his back in a position he believed was termed spooning.

He could feel Jim's heartbeat against his back and noticed that the human's pulse and breathing rate were both slightly too rapid for a man asleep. A waking Jim curled around him? Spock felt a blush creep over his face.

The human's warm embrace felt so comforting and reassuring that Spock did not want to move, but he knew that he would have to sooner or later and postponing the matter would only make the situation awkward.

He turned over to find a wide-awake Jim, studying him closely with a serious look on his face.

"Thank you for letting me stay," Jim said. "I can't remember when I last slept this well."

"You are welcome." Spock pursed his lips, uncertain how to continue. Their conversation should not be postponed unduly, to do so could endanger them both, but he found himself at a loss at how to approach the subject.

"Spock, about last night..." Jim's voice trailed off.

"We need to talk."

Jim nodded.

"I know. I just wanted to say that-"

The captain found his words interrupted by the shrill sound of the ship's intercom. The blond growled.

"Someone has a bad sense of timing. But I suppose you'd better answer that."

Nodding, Spock rose from the bed and went to his comm station.

The image of the ensign who manned the comm during gamma shift appeared on the screen.

"Yes, Ensign?"

"I'm sorry to disturb you sir," the young man said. "But according to the computer Captain Kirk should be in your quarters."

Spock looked away from the screen to see Kirk grabbing his shirt from the floor and pulling it over his head as he crossed to Spock's side.

"I'm here. What is it Ensign?"

"I'm sorry sir, but Commodore Enwright has kept on hailing us. He insists on talking to you."

"Don't apologise for doing your job, Ensign. You can't help bossy flag officers. Tell him I'll be with him in five minutes. Kirk out." The captain switched off the comm.

Through the captain's conversation Spock had gone to his food synthesizer and punched up a cup of coffee which he now handed to the captain. Jim smiled widely and took a deep swallow.

"Spock you're a saint." He started to pull on his discarded clothes. "I suppose our conversation will have to wait until I'm done with Enwright."

"Obviously, Captain. I shall have my initial report done momentarily, in case the Commodore wants it."

Kirk nodded once.

"Thanks," he said as he turned to leave. "Till later then."

Enwright's conversation with Kirk was short and succinct. It consisted of a direct order for detailed reports from both the captain and the science team concerning the encounter with the amoeba, to be delivered immediately upon arrival at K-6. This led to a flurry of activity in both primary and secondary lab as the science division laboured hard to analyse and compile all the data in the few hours available. And while Spock was busy overseeing everything in the laboratories Kirk was holed up in his office with Scotty writing their reports.

The moment the Enterprise docked at Starbase 6, Kirk and Spock were summoned down to the Commodore's office where they both faced a barrage of questions about the creature and their encounter with it, most of them unnecessary or impossible to answer.

Kirk was the first one dismissed, after only an hour, while Enwright kept badgering the science officer with one impossible question after another, growing more and more dissatisfied with the Vulcan's standard answer: "Impossible to draw solid conclusions due to lack of data."

"Commander Spock, it is your duty as science officer to get that data."

"Commodore. The only way in which such data could be obtained would be to find another amoeba and make further analysis. However, given its dangerous nature, it is my duty as a Starfleet officer to advise against such an endeavour."

For a second Spock worried that the flag officer would burst a blood vessel.

Finally Enwright managed to run out of questions and Spock found himself dismissed. Exiting the Commodore's office, he found Kirk in the front office talking to a young red-headed Lieutenant, standing a little too close to him.

Spock stopped right outside the door and observed the two men as they shared a laugh, feeling the customary aggravation at the scene.

"_Don't grow attached to him."_

For some reason Dr. Wallace's words came back to him. _How would Jim receive news of their bonding? He had always prized his freedom, had never tied himself in a relationship. And now here he was, faced with one from which there was no escape._

Troubled by the thought, Spock turned and headed outside and down the hallway towards the transporter bay, intending to use the walk to buy time to give the matter the necessary thought.

_As a human Jim had no frame of reference for this and might feel trapped in something that to a Vulcan was a form of freedom seldom imagined, much less experienced – to touch the full essence of another. How could he best present this to Jim, in terms he might be able to relate to?_

Lost in his musings the sudden touch of a hand on his arm startled him. He spun around to find Jim beside him, a worried look on his face.

"Commander, is something the matter?"

"No, Captain. Should there be?"

"I yelled after you, but you didn't respond. I can't remember that ever happening before."

"My apologies Jim. My mind drifted and I was not paying full attention to my surroundings."

"You? Lost in daydreams?" Jim grinned. "Don't worry, I won't tell Bones, but it sounds like you need shore leave as bad as the rest of us for once."

He almost instinctively denied this, but on consideration he had to agree with Jim; he did need time away from his customary duties.

"Why don't you come with me?" Jim's words sounded rushed and Spock frowned.

_It was not the first time the captain had invited him along and usually he begged off but-_

Either not noticing the Vulcan's frown or choosing to ignore it, the blond man forged ahead.

"I've hired a cabin on Xi Corvi Prime, far outside normal comm range. If Enwright has any more unnecessary questions he can address them to Scotty or Bones." He grinned. "That should be fun to watch."

_-if he went along that would not only give him a chance to talk everything through with Jim in a peaceful setting, but should he react badly he would have time to try and put things right between them again._

"I know nature's beauty doesn't mean a lot to you but-"

"Agreed."

Jim blinked once.

"With what exactly?"

"It would be beneficial for me to be away from the ship for a time. I shall accept your invitation."

Jim lit up in radiant smile.

"In that case, we'd better go pack and elope."

_Tel-yut_: Bond path


	4. Chapter 4

19.3 hours later Spock found himself standing in front of a chest of drawers made of dark stained wood, wondering if he should indeed unpack. The idea that had seemed ideal back at Starbase 6 now presented several obstacles. A number of hiking paths, steep cliff sides made for climbing and a lake less than 20 meters from the front door, made for a plethora of outdoors activities that Jim would be likely to engage in and Spock wondered if he would be able to pin the man in one place long enough to talk to him.

Well they were here now, and at some point the captain would have to sit still – at least during meals, if at no other time. Otherwise he would simply have to _make_ Jim sit still.

Reaching into his bag with a sigh Spock began to shift his clothes from it to the drawers.

He was only just done with the task when a knock sounded at his door.

"Yes."

Kirk stepped inside, a small smile playing over his lips.

"Do the accommodations meet with your approval?"

Spock knew that many humans, particularly those of Terra, would find this place on the primitive side, but Vulcans were taught from a young age to survive without tools or weapons if necessary.

"They are quite sufficient."

Frowning, the human's eyes glided over the thick, mahogany red Vulcan robe Spock was dressed in.

"You're not too cold?"

"Negative. It is considerably warmer than many nights on Vulcan." The worried frown did not disappear. "I am quite comfortable I assure you."

Jim's smiled again.

"Good. Come on then, lunch is ready."

Spock followed Jim into the cabin's combined sitting room and kitchen. The room's raw wooden walls were tinted red by the light of the setting sun shining through the windows.

"Considering the late hour, it should rather be late supper."

"That's the problem with vacations on planet, having to adjust your internal clock."

Jim had set the table in the kitchen, probably to give them the best view of the sunset. The window provided a magnificent view of the lake, the gentle grassy incline that led down to it and the forest of coniferous trees that lay beyond. All of it tinted red as well, reminding Spock of his home planet.

Jim grabbed his arm, bringing him back from his brief reverie.

"Come, let's eat." He pulled out a chair gesturing to the Vulcan.

Spock sat.

"They're all vegetarian," Jim continued, indicating the sandwiches laid out on a dish in the middle of the table.

Spock chose a sandwich at random and poured himself a cup of tea.

_Chun Mei? Of all the teas of Earth it was his favourite._ Puzzled, he sipped it. It was of course possible that it was simply part of the stock in larder – not having a replicator in it, the owner had supplied real food – but it was unlikely. And if was not, Jim had either brought it with him or asked that it was provided.

He raised his eyes from his cup and studied the captain's profile. The other man seemed lost in thought, gazing out the window.

_What had Jim intended by inviting him along?_

Then the moment fled as Jim firmly shook his head and looked back at Spock.

"I'm sorry. It seems my mind is wandering."

He picked up a sandwich and took a bite. When he had finished chewing he continued.

"So, before that call from Enwright interrupted us you said we needed to talk?"

Spock hesitated. He did not want to approach the subject, he still had not found the words he would need, but there might not be another chance such as this.

"We do."

"Then... talk."

Spock took another swallow of tea. He could only forge straight ahead and see where it would lead him.

"You asked me what you were to me and I replied that I had no answer."

Jim nodded.

"At that time it was true."

"But it's not now. You've... found an answer?"

"Yes."

The blond waited silently while Spock tried to find the words he needed.

"Jim first I must tell you something of Vulcan bonds. You already know of the marriage and the betrothal bond and you have experienced the mating bond yourself."

Jim grinned, but Spock merely went on.

"These are not the only forms of bonds my people form. These bonds are all usually constructed deliberately, but my people have many more bonds that form naturally. Close, continuous interaction will almost inevitably result in one form of bond or another forming between individuals. At its weakest stage, the bond is called _zavik-tel_, trace bond, and is too weak to achieve communication between minds or even transfer much in the way of emotions or impulses. But in time it can change into more than that."

"Such as the mating bond?"

"That is one possibility, though mostly they grow into bonds of friendships in one form or another."

"And we share a... a trace... bond?"

"That was what I believed. I noticed its formation... after... events on Vulcan. I blocked it, believing that without attention it would fade, as is its nature."

Kirk's face turned stony. "I... see."

Spock blinked as he felt a lash of... _emptiness_ rear up inside, one he knew did not come from himself.

"Jim, as human and psi null you have no training in metal defences. I could not permit such an invasion of your mind's privacy, uninformed and unasked..."

"You could have asked."

Spock was silent for a moment. "I did not know how."

"You once said that when you felt friendship for me you felt ashamed. Was this what you meant? That it shamed you that such a bond might form between us? That you might invade my privacy uninvited?"

"Correct. It was entirely possible that some form of bond would eventually form between us, due to our continued close interaction, despite my close attention to my mental shields, but I was... uncertain of how to tell you."

"What about everyone else on board?"

"Given the low psi levels of the entire crew and the fact that I spend much less time with any of them than I do with you, it is unlikely that anything should ever form."

Jim rubbed his hands over his face.

"Okay. You believed we shared a trace bond and you blocked it."

Spock nodded. "But it did _not_ fade as expected. Rather it remained stubbornly persistent and I did not know what else to do. Then last night, when you slept in my bed, I arrived at the conclusion that the only way to deal with it would be to study it closer. What I found was... unexpected."

"So what did you find?"

"The forms of bonds I have described so far are all things of the Vulcan mind, a result of millions of years of evolution. But there is a form of bond that does not have its roots in our minds, but rather in our very souls."

Spock looked out the window. He felt as uncomfortable speaking of this as he had when explaining the nature of _pon farr_. And, like then, he had no choice but to go on.

"The Vulcan word for it is, _t'hy'la_. The word most commonly used when it is translated into Standard Federation English is 'friend', chosen I believe because it is the form of human relationship that holds the most diverse forms of expression. 'Brother', though less common, is also used."

"And this bond... this is what we share?" Jim looked dumbfounded.

"Yes."

"But... how?"

"It cannot be intentionally constructed; it forms on its own between two individuals whose souls are compatible."

"Compatible? In what way?"

"In every way."

Kirk rose from his chair and started pacing the room. Spock watched him. After a few minutes he abruptly stopped and turned to face the Vulcan.

"How exactly does this... affect us?"

"It is not a mind link, not yet, but what one feels and experiences, the other shares. To an extent."

Blood shot into Jim's face as he grasped the implications.

"You mean that... some of those... urges that you've felt-"

"Indeed."

"Forgive me for saying so, but you seem remarkably detached about this now."

"Once I realised the origin of the intense desires I knew there was nothing to fear."

"I'm sorry Spock, I never meant to make you uncomfortable. I've been trying to keep a lid on this, but apparently that is impossible. But how could this even happen? You said it was a bond made of the Vulcan soul. I'm human."

"Obviously it does not matter. Or perhaps my own hybrid nature has made it possible. Whatever the case, it is. And unless drastic measures are taken, it will grow."

"Drastic measures? What drastic measures?"

"Physical separation, complete end to all interactions. It will not reverse what has already occurred, but it will prevent further development." His lips and tongue felt frozen and clumsy as he spoke the words he did not wish to say aloud, but he owed his captain this much. He could not reverse what already was, but at least he could prevent a closer bonding.

Kirk grew completely still.

"Is that what you want?"

"No."

Kirk exhaled explosively.

"But if we stay in contact it will grow." Spock nodded. "How exactly?"

"Our souls will intertwine even more deeply than they already have, and eventually it will grow to a full mind link, though that will take considerable time. It should give you the time necessary to acquire the skills you will need to learn to block it."

"Is that possible? My esper rating is fairly normal for a human."

"Telepathic capacity is unnecessary in this case. To create a mental shield or to block a mind link one needs only the ability to visualise it and the willpower to maintain it once formed, skills you already possess. You only need training."

"But that can't block the soul bond."

"Correct."

"So you'll keep feeling... what I do?"

"In..." Spock groped for the right word. "Echoes," he finally settled on. "Forgive me Jim, I am explaining this poorly. I cannot find the words to describe this."

"They probably don't exist in English, or any human language for that matter."

Spock nodded slowly in agreement. That seemed a likely conclusion.

"And I doubt that the Vulcan words would make much sense to me," Jim continued. "So we're at an impasse."

"Perhaps, if you would permit it, I could show you?"

"Can you?" Jim pulled a chair up beside Spock's and sat down.

Placing his fingertips over the psi-points, the Vulcan focused his mind on the human's. This time there was no initial startled reaction from Jim, but instead a sense of pleased welcome. Through the _t'kash-skor-tor_ he tied their conscious minds together. Under normal circumstances he would have to calm the other person, as most non-telepaths found this procedure distinctly uncomfortable, but throughout the process Jim's mind remained relaxed.

Once he had a secure hold, he slowly let their joined minds descend as far as he dared. Sensing the red/gold/silver/black of their interwoven souls surrounding them, he brought them to a halt.

_*Here.*_

A feeling of intense joy/confusion/surprise he recognised as not his own almost robbed him of his breath. Fearing that perhaps he had brought Jim further down than a human mind could tolerate he brought them back to their bodies as fast as he dared.

Releasing Jim's mind from his, he let his hand drop from his face into his lap, looking closely at the human's stunned face.

"Spock-" Eyes blank with unshed tears Jim reached out and wrapped his arms around Spock's shoulders.

"Let me hold you, just for a second. Please," he whispered.

Closing his own arms around Jim's torso, Spock cradled him gently.

Slowly the intense moment passed and Jim pushed himself back, though he did not fully release his hold on Spock.

"How Vulcans even begin to put that into words I can't fathom."

"_Dah svi'wuh, hafau dah wi_. Two who are one, and yet remain two. We are still who we were before, but we are also one being."

Jim nodded. "I don't think I would have understood those words if you hadn't shown me."

"And now you understand why it cannot be blocked. And only death can undo it. Even then..."

"Yes?"

"Jim you... saw the joining. Imagine it severed... the damage that would entail."

"It must hurt."

"The pain of the initial severing has been known to be fatal. Even if that is survived, the long term damage can kill too."

"Forgive me for saying this, Spock, but it doesn't seem... well, _logical_ that something like this would have survived – evolutionarily speaking – when it carries so high a price."

"Perhaps, but the benefits are significant while both live. As you know, my species shares ancestry with the felines of my homeworld as yours do with the great apes, and like the felines of Earth my distant ancestors lived solitary lives, not in groups. Had the ability to form deep telepathic bonds not developed, we still would be solitary. This telepathic ability began the process of creating the social groups necessary for any form of civilisation to form. But before my ancestors developed enough of an abstract intelligence to _construct_ mind bonds, they formed them instinctively. A soul bond reaches deeper than that: to share the full nearness of another, to share the resources of two rather than to rely only on one's own."

Jim looked pensive as he leaned further back, letting his hands finally slide form Spock's shoulders.

"You said this kind of bond was translated with words such as friend and brother, but that sounds more like a bond useful for a mated couple."

"For a group, for a species to survive, more is needed than simply bearing and raising young. This form of bond has many uses when it comes to defence and hunting."

"But what about _pon farr_, how would a mate deal with someone who was already bonded?"

Spock went still.

Jim's eyes narrowed.

"What aren't you telling me?"

"It is perfectly possible to form a mating bond with someone other than the one with whom one shares a soul bond." Spock kept his voice carefully neutral.

"Possible," Jim repeated slowly. "But is it done?"

"Jim, this bond need not place any restraints on you."

"Why not? You said it's the most intimate bond a Vulcan can form, surely that transforms into some form of physical intimacy?"

Spock's gaze fastened on the floor.

"I cannot trap you."

"Tell me!" Suddenly Jim's voice was sharp and commanding, every bit the captain's voice. "Whatever it is you're not saying, tell me."

Spock rose, stepping a few feet away. Jim's passion was too close, too intense, and his physical nearness made it unbearable.

"A _t'hy'la_ bond does not always lead to a mating bond, as it might develop between two already bonded to someone they do not wish to give up; but when it forms between two who are unbonded... they have always chosen each other."

"So... if I say no, you'll be unlikely to find anyone else?" Jim frowned, puzzlement spreading over his features. "Wait... is _this_ why T'Pring challenged? She sensed this... bond between us and..."

"I have not yet had time to give this much thought, but I believe that it is indeed part of the reason."

Kirk's hand hammered down on the table, making the plates and cups rattle. "Damn that- How could she-"

"Jim?"

"She chose me, _me_, as her champion- Knowing that-"

Spock crossed the floor to Jim's side, gently putting his hands on his shoulders.

"Jim, please. Do not judge when you do not possess all the facts."

The Vulcan could feel Jim's anger radiating through his hands, a living, seething thing.

"What facts am I missing? The one where killing me would kill you too? A nice, _logical_ solution."

Spock blinked. He could not recall the last time he had seen Jim this angry and so out of control.

"Choosing you _was_ logical." Feeling Jim's anger flare even further he quickly ventured on. "Jim, you were the only one who was safe from me, the only who could walk away alive."

"Safe? How?"

"This bond, it does not permit me to cause you true harm. You saw it: even in the depth of _plak-tow_ it will not be denied. To harm you would be to harm myself. And as we fought, the bond itself rebelled by forming a connection between our minds."

"The trace bond."

"Correct. Had the fight gone on, the bond would eventually have matured fully."

"Meaning we would have..."

"Yes."

"Then... I'm sort of glad it didn't, I'm not fond of having an audience. Though..." Jim looked concerned at Spock. "In other ways it might have been better."

"Possibly, but such an occurrence would hold dangers of its own. As a human your mind might have had difficulties dealing with such an abrupt connection."

"Hmmm. Whatever the case, it doesn't change what is. You will need a mate in seven years' time."

Jim raised one hand and put it over Spock's

"I'll be there when you need me."

"You cannot promise that, many things may happen in seven years. You could be married then."

"You know a starship captain is married to his ship." Jim's tone was light, but his smile didn't reach his eyes.

"Jim. I do not intend to keep you from pursuing whomever you wish. I wish to make that quite clear."

"Don't you?"

Spock pulled his hand from out under Jim's.

"Indeed not. I will not make this bond a leash on your neck."

"You said you couldn't 'trap' me in this, but what about you? Aren't you trapped?"

"Jim did you not see... To a Vulcan this is the most sacred form of bond that exists. It is not a trap to us, quite the opposite."

"Then why do you think I'd feel trapped?"

"You are not Vulcan."

"But somehow your soul found mine compatible. Isn't it conceivable to you that I would have some form of understanding of this?"

Jim stood, his chest almost touching Spock's.

"You'd leave me free to pursue anyone I wanted."

Spock nodded, feeling his throat clench. The thought of Jim with another seared him like the desert winds, but he could not tie him in an unsought-for union.

"Anyone at all?"

"I believe I said that."

A flash of something lit up Kirk's eyes but it was gone too fast for Spock to identify it. In the next instant he found Jim's hands placed on his shoulders, lips softly nibbling his own. It took every ounce of his self-control to twist his head away.

"Stop," he whispered.

"Why? You said I was free to pursue who I wanted."

"Jim. We cannot. If we do this, if this is allowed to form as a mating bond..."

"We already agreed that I'll be there when you need me in seven years, the question remains of what happens between now and then."

Sighing, Jim stepped back.

"Spock I don't want to force you into something you don't want, but I wanted to make it perfectly clear what _I_ want."

"Jim, please understand. Among my people, even with an ordinary marriage bond, divorce is both difficult and painful in ways a human cannot imagine. With this-"

Jim took Spock's hand with one of his own.

"Truly till death do us part." Jim smiled. He ran his thumb over the back of Spock's hand, causing the Vulcan to shiver slightly.

"When I decided to bring you to Vulcan, against direct orders, I knew I risked everything I had worked my whole adult life to achieve, but I found I had no regrets. I would do it again if necessary and willingly pay whatever price was required of me."

Jim let go and stepped back, just out of Spock's reach.

"I've never contemplated having a spouse before, and for it to be my First Officer is going to pose challenges, besides the ones you mentioned with controlling the eventual mind bond. But with you I'm willing to face them. For better or for worse. If you'll have me?"

Closing the gap between them, Spock gently took Jim by the shoulders.

"_T'hy'la_."

"My brother, my friend."

Jim wrapped his arms around Spock, burying his face at his neck. Spock returned the gesture, revelling in the heat coming off Jim's body.

"There is one more word that is used to translate _t'hy'la_."

"Mmmm, what's that?"

"Lover."

Jim lifted his head and Spock saw a playful glimmer in his eyes.

"Really. That's... interesting."

Raising one warm hand to cup Spock's face, Jim leaned up and kissed him softly.

There were still many things they had not discussed concerning the bonding, and many things would have to change; but for now Spock simply let himself relax into the kiss, enjoying the pleasures of both body and soul finding some of the peace he had long sought.

_T'kash-skor-tor: Tying of minds._

_Dah svi'wuh, hafau dah wi: Literally, "two in one, but remaining two."_

_T'kash-skor-tor: Tying of minds._

_Dah svi'wuh, hafau dah wi: Literally, "two in one, but remaining two."_

_Aaaaand done. Thanks for reading. Hope you had as much fun reading this as I had writing it, but that you missed the frustration. (Word of advise people. Never, ever create elaborate headcanons about something while you are writing a fic about the selfsame thing, it will drive you bonkers. I am now the proud owner of a ton of headcanons on how the social everyday aspects of Vulcan telepathic bonds work, but my sanity is on extended hiatus I'll probably write them down at some point, then at least all this madness will have been good for something. And if you're ever short on ideas for the whys and wherefores of telepathic bonds between Vulcans never hesitate to drop me a PM)_


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